


Garden of Shadows

by ParastrellusSunshine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Demigod Harry Potter, Doppelganger, Harry Potter Has a Different Name, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Summoning, Summoning Circles, Teenage Tom Riddle, Time Skips, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 13:45:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19296961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParastrellusSunshine/pseuds/ParastrellusSunshine
Summary: Long after the destruction of his world, Harry has gotten used to being the Master and personification of Life and Death, a god or demigod in the eyes of several universes. When he finds a world of summoners he makes a contract with Tom Riddle, a powerful summoner destined to become the greatest dark lord to ever live. Posing as a weak garden demigod, the only one who sees through his lies is Voldemort, the Demigod of War and Chaos, who was summoned by that world's Harry Potter. But what starts as a game soon becomes something more when his new found family is threatened. They don't call him the destroyer of worlds for nothing, after all.





	Garden of Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership rights to the Harry Potter series. All characters, places, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling. My ideas are my own. I am not making any money from the creation of this fanfiction.
> 
>  **Beta Wanted:** By which I mean a proof reader obviously, but I will also accept a fish if offered. Please send me an email (provided on profile) if you are interested. If this is still up, I am still looking.
> 
>  **A/N:** Perhaps one day I shall remake this into a chapter story, but it is not this day. This story is set in a similar world to canon with a few major differences. Master of Death Harry is concidered a demigod by the rules of this universe, and he will go by the name Florian. Pairings are as follows in case of any confusion; Florian/Voldemort & Harry Potter/Tom Riddle.
> 
> _**With Love, Sunny the Bat (ParastrellusSunshine)**_

## Garden of Shadows

* * *

In the void between the land of the living and the final resting place of the dead is a garden. It is a beautiful place, shadows and stars dancing through the vibrant colors of every flower there ever was or ever will be. Waterfalls with turquoise waters crashing over amethyst sands. The sun does not shine in the in-between, the garden does not need it, for it is niether living nor dead. A great glowing orb of pure magic lights the vibrant garden instead, a miniature sun of periwinkle purple.

Many pass through the enchanted garden, living and dead, but none may stay aside from the Gardener. He has many names, given to him long after the destruction of his world, but the gardener is how he is known best by all who know of him. He was born human, many millennia ago, but he has not been Harry Potter in so long the name has been forgotten by all but himself. It is a lonely life that the demigod of life and death leads, humming softly as he tends to his flowers in the eternal garden with loving care, visited only by the reapers and passing souls.

Today is one such day. The gardener follows his reaper as he explains that the balence of one universe is dangerously skewed. Normally the task of keeping tge universes balanced is the job of the reapers, an average of seven to each world, but sometimes even theu come across a problem they can not fix. Then it becomes a job for the gardener. This world though even he is confused by. Thete appears to be nothing wrong with it, aside from the broken scales dangling over the orb like a limp marionette.

"Sam." The reaper in question steps up to the Gardener hesitantly. "I need you to contact The Avatar. I need to reset this world manually from the inside. I have a strange feeling it will take a while."

Without waiting for a response the gardener steps forward and places his forehead against the globe. In a flash of purple he vanishes.

\--

He flashes into an endless void of purple black, startling the strange humanoid demonic creatures in the shadows. They hiss in terror, hiding in the shadows. _Destroyer!_ They call out, _Death! Devourer!_

The gardener laughs, smiling brightly. _I mean no harm._

 _The world ender means no harm?_ Mocks back one hissing voice.

 _You can not deceive us, devourer of gods_. Spits another.

The gardener laughs softly and the void shivers in horror. _This world is unbalanced_. He explains sweetly. _I am here to help._

They hiss and churn in the darkness but none stop him as he steps up to the heart of the universe and gazes into it. In the darkess he sees a boy floating amongst the dancing of diamond-bright purple stars. He chants in a language like parseltongue, summoning another for a contract. The creatures hiss and flee at the sight of him.

 _Why do you cower?_ The gardener asks, realising this is the cause of the disruption.

 _Too powerful_. They hiss. _To form a contract with the mortal would rip apart the gods. Too much power for a mortal. Destroyer of the world. Too strong_.

The gardener nods. _Then I shall have to form a contract with him._

They hiss in terror. _No!_ They screech. _Can't give the mortal more power. Too powerful. The world will end._

The gardener grins with teeth like razors _. It is already dead if I don't. Unless one of you steps forward._

The void writhes and hisses but none come forward. One speaks, _To form a contract, cut your palms and place them together, think of your intent, then drink from the blood._

 _Thank you._ The gardener smiles, then he steps into the heart void.

\----

 _I accept the terms of this bargin._ Tom Riddle spins to face the voice and sees nothing but shadows.

 _Who are you?_ He calls.

 _I am the gardener_. Responds the voice.

Suddenly he stands in tbe most beautiful garden he has ever seen. A veritable Eden. Sitting on a geode as tall as he is, is a boy he knows well.

_I'd appreciate it if you don't wear the face of my best friend, gardener._

This makes the boy laugh, but he changes his shape to one of shimmering shadows and purple stars in a vaguely human shape still eerily like his best friend, great bat like wings stretched out on his back.

 _Better?_ He sing-songs.

 _Much_. Tom responds stiffly.

He takes the moonstone blade and slices diagonally across each palm, wincing, blood pouring down his arms. The gardener mimics his actions, his blood pours like molten silver from his upturned palms. Silver and ruby mix as their palms press together, then as one they lick the shimmering liquid from their palms. Warmth floods through his veins, lava without burning, and Tom grins wildly.

 _See you in the waking world, my bonded._ He whispers, then he falls out of the black.

\--

Tom lurches up in the ritual circle with a gasp. He raises his palm up to admire the lightning bolts of shimmering silver twirling across his palms in jagged lines. The gardener is no where to be seen but Tom doesn't care. He is bonded with a demigod. Surely now they will see his worth.

Harry steps up to him with a glass of wine and Tom raises it to his lips. Red as blood. "You're eyes have purple rings." He grins.

Tom chuckles. "Yours have red."

Harry laughs softly. "I bonded with Voldemort."

He says it so causally but the words bring ice to his veins. What power can a low rent garden demigod bring him when his best friend has bonded with the most powerful demigod. Voldemort, the Serpent, demigod of war and chaos. He forces himself to smile.

"I didn't even know if I'd bond with anyone, it was taking forever, but then he came. I completely forgot all the formal requests and just asked him to please bond with me. He just laughed and said Sure, beautiful, like it wasn't the most embarrassing thing to say, and bonded with me."

"Good job." He croaks. "

Harry frowns. "I know that look." He sits down. "What did I do?"

Tom grips the knife hard enough the enchanted silver cuts bleed. "Just proved once and for all that you are more powerful than me." He confesses. "I also bonded a demigod, but one I've never even heard of. The gardener, he's called, and as far as I can tell his only power is to tend the most beautiful garden ever. Which cool, whatever, but of course you had to go and charm the most dangerous demigod in the universe by being a litteraly ray of sunshine."

Harry looks hurt and Tom winces. "I'm sorry." He says. "Don't mind me being a jealous asshole. I just thought I'd finally prove that I'm worthy of being part of my ancestors coven, but the Slytherins won't look twice at me with Voldemort bonding you."

Harry grabs his hand sympathetically. "Maybe, but maybe I'm not powerful enough to do anything great with Voldemort. Maybe I'm useless as a mage and you'll be absolutely splendid. Maybe the gardener is a lot more powerful than he appears. But even so, you and I both know that you are far more powerful than most, no matter how well bonded they are. You hardly need a powerful contract to earn a place in Slytherin after graduation."

Tom sighs. "But you're just as powerful as me."

Harry smirks. "Maybe I just got to Voldemort first and if you'd been faster I'd be complaining about the unfairness to you."

"Shut up." Tom laughs fondly. "You wouldn't complain. Mum would kill you."

"She would." Harry leans his head on his shoulder. "And she'll wipe the floor with your ass if she hears you complaining too."

Tom grins. "Better suck it up then, I suppose. Your mom is insane."

The two burst into laughter unaware of the two demigods conversing just a few feet away.

\--

From the sidelines he observes his doppelganger comforting the doppelganger of his old nemises. It's been so long since that life he hardly feels anything more than a vague curiosity, no matter how strange it felt once he realised who he bonded with. The gardener hasn't been Harry Potter in so long but he was never this boy. Not really. This one is happy, sweet. This one has parents and no prophesy to dictate his life. This Harry is destined to be the greatest warrior there ever was, destined to rule as the king to Tom Riddle's queen. The king may be the most powerful piece on the chessboard, but he is useless without his queen. Harry is destined for greatness, but without Tom achieving his destiny Harry will burn out like a dying star.

"So, you're The Gardener." A voice comes from over his shoulder, reverently respectful. He turns and comes face to face with the face of long forgotten nightmares. "Destroyer of Worlds, Demigod of life and death, Keeper of the Everlasting Garden of the in-between."

"Voldemort. Demigod of war and chaos, Serpent king, Lord of the Dark Void." He greets back with a tilt of his head. "In my home world you were a dark lord."

He chuckles. "In mine you were prophesied to vanquish me. In the end, you are the one who fell." He gestures to Harry and Tom. "Hopefully they will not share our fate."

Thr gardener nods. "They are good together. Hopefully they realize that soon, or I'll have to play matchmaker."

"Your bonded thinks you're just a weak flower god." Voldemort comments, changing the subject. "It will be ever so chaotic to reveal the truth."

The gardener laughs. "But not just yet. There will come a moment to reveal the truth when the most chaos will be sewn, I imagine."

Voldemort hisses like a snake in an odd mockery of laughter. "Indeed." He circles the gardener. "I feel the strange need to cower before you. I bow to nothing, not even the celestial devourers of the void."

He grins, all teeth. "I imagine that's frustrating."

Voldemort leers. "Frustrating is not the word I'd use."

He laughs, drawing attention from their bonded children. Harry and Tom approach, the former all smiles while the latter glowers. Grinning widely Harry looks up to him. "Hi, Mr. Gardener." He says, "Can I call you Florian?"

Tom shouts, scandalized, and covers his mouth with his hands. "You can't just name gods, Harry!"

He smiles. "Actually, I quite like it. I haven't had any name aside from the Gardener in many millennia."

Voldemort laughs softly as Tom stares incredulously. Newly named, Florian grins. "Okay." Tom nods, then under his breath he mutters, "Of course you can charm him too. Why am I surprised?"

Harry groans. "Please tell me you aren't jealous because I named him. It's just that the Gardener is so hard to say all the time."

Tom rolls his eyes. "I'm not jealous." He says, sounding very much like that is a blatant lie, though no one says it to his face.

\--

The summoners world is strangely similar to Florian's home world, though at the same time it is different. Harry is friends with Hermione and Ron, all three are aiming to become members of the coven of Godric Gryffindor, led by the great Albus Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy is still a prick, though he is apparently destined for the Ravenclaw Coven. Luna Lovegood is still beautifully unique. Nevile is a budding Hufflepuff. Tom Riddle is the only one not from the same time zone, in fact, but that appears to be a goid thing. Harry seems to be a good influence, tempering his darker more murderous urges while Tom mellows his explosive temper. Magic is a large part of this universe, though muggles are called mundanes and they are aware of the existence of witches. Hogwarts starts a year easier and is ten years long, and in fifth year they summon familiars, the  bonded, and boost their magic from levels near the squibs of his world to a varied level usually close to the average witch or wizard of his dead world. Tom and Harry both appear to be naturally high level by his old world's standards, practically deadly for this universe even without being bonded.

They were summoned on Samhain, though it takes until Yule for Tom Riddle to truly warm up to him enough for them to make any progress in the classes. A contract is an intimate relationship between two bonded. The summoner and their bonded are a sacred pair. Many are even romantic. Tom's heart belongs to Harry completely, though getting him to admit it seems to be a lesson in patience even Florian is struggling with. He used to think nothing could try his patience.

Time passes and soon it is March and the school is abuzz with talk of a spring festival on the upcoming equinox. Ostera. The fifth years are allowed to join for the first time this year. There is no escape from talk of ancient fertility rituals, flower crowns, and other such talk based around the upcoming festival.

If Florian expected Voldemort to be sympathetic he came to the wring person to complain. "Surely you don't think you'll be able to skip it, do you?" He laughs as the gardener finishes his rant.

He glares. "I will have to. I'm the god of life. This is a festival that falls under my jurisdiction. If I go, half of those girls will get pregnant."

Voldemort grins. "I know. Think of the ensuing chaos." He purrs, breath hot against his ear. "All those scared teens wondering how their birth control potions and spells failed. All those panicked teen fathers regretting how they talked their girlfriends into it, only to now realize the price." He makes a sound that's practically pornographic. "Besides, Harry asked Tom this morning, so you have no real choice aside from whether you plan to enjoy the festival. Unless that idiot doesn't realize Harry is trying to date him, which is also a distinct possibility."

He chokes. "I'm hardly about to ask Tom if he wants to participate in the festival with me, not to mention he has Harry even if I could bring myself to be remotely attracted to the child."

Voldemort laughs. "I meant with me you idiot." At the shocked face Florian pulls he glares. "Hang on, are you really such a dumb ass you haven't noticed I'm courting you? I flirt with ypu all the time and I know you've been getting the flowers."

Blushing the demigod of life and death stares him. "I thought it was just how you are. I didn't know that you were being serious, and I thought the flowers were because I said I missed my garden."

"Well yes, but if you hadn't noticed all but the lavender are flowers of romantic intent, and that's only because you said lavender is your favorite and I really do admire you so it works just as well." Voldemort defends.

"Not on my world." Florian laughs. "Sunflowers, Orange Roses, Ivy, Irises, Zinnias, white crysanthamum, and blue tulips are friendship flowers. They mean things like loyalty, long term bonds, support, and remembrance. I thought you were saying no hard feelings about killing you in my original world, not I love you."

Voldemort's face turns an interesting shade of purple. "How was I supposed to know that Edwardian Flower language isn't the same across universes? What the hell flowers should I have sent?"

Florian smiles indulgently and conjures up a bouquet for him. "In Victorian flower language Lavender roses mean enchantment or love at first sight,  forget-me-not means true love, Dittany is for love and passion, and Lavender is devotion."

"This bouquet means rejected love and hate in Edwardian." Voldemort mutters in annoyance.

They start laughing just as Harry and Tom walk in. The two blink at the flowers. "That bouquet is sending all sorts of mixed signals." Tom scowls. "Lust, hate, remeberance of death, scorn. I mean it's pretty but I'm surprised that a garden demigod doesn't know the Elizabethan flower language."

He is cut off by laughter and Florian falls to the ground. When Voldemort catches his breath enough to explain no one is able to contain their laughter. Perhaps Harry and Tom should have listened and realized that they referenced other worlds, but alas they did not, too busy laughing over the language of flowers and love.

\--

When the equinox festival arrives, Harry paces his room nervously. Voldemort doesn't help his anxiety, reveling in the chaos as he lounges lazily across the bed. He's dressed in soft white robes with a crown of lavender and poppies, lust and love at first sight.

A knock startles him and Harry goes to the door to see Tom, resplendent in his own white robes, the color complimenting his pale skin and contrasting his dark hair. His eyes are a gelid dark blue,his pupils have grown to twice their normal size, the purple rings darkened to black around his irises. His chest rises and falls as though he is drowning, fruitlessly trying to get air. His crown matches Harry's own. Behind him a form of shimmering lavender, onyx, and plumb moves but he pays no mind.

"You look beautiful." He kisses Harry's hand.

"So do you." They stare only a moment, an eternity, more before turning to keep from jumping one another.

Voldemort's long black clawed white fingers are tangled in the near black purple smoke of Florian's long hair. Florian is strange to look upon, ever shifting swirls of blackish purple and laveder shimmering smoke, somehow solid without blowing away like dust despite having the appearance of fragility. He has wings, bat like and formed from the same solid smoke as the rest of him, but otherwise he looks remarkably human in shape. Voldemort is a terrifying vision of serpentine glory, more human the Florian, with crimson eyes like blood and snow white scaled skin. The kiss they share is not romantic, but horrifying. Forbidden. It is not rare for a bonded pair to fall in love, but there has never been an instance of two summoned falling in love. They don't know how the others will react

They back away and Harry focuses on Florian's oddly translated crown of lavender and lavender roses. Voldemort wears his own crown in lavender and white roses. The roses must mean something else to him, but to Harry the crown suggests necrophiliac tendencies. He is afraid to ask. The languages of the gods are so strange and varied.

"What does it mean again?" Voldemort asks to his utter glee.

Florian smiles. "Devotion, enchantment, and love at first sight. Yours?"

"Admiration, true love, and carnal excitement." He responds.

Both turn to them. "Lust and love at first sight." Tom replies to the unspoken question. "Don't be surprised to get strange looks. Lust isn't odd, the lavender won't raise eyebrows, but Voldemort's crown appears to mean wishing for death, and yours means scorn on top of that."

They all grin. A bell rings and Tom offers his arm.

"Shall we?" Harry gestures to the door after taking it.

"We shall." He grins.

\--

The party is a splendid affair of flowers and silk. Giggling teens dancing through the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade village in white. In their black robes, Voldemort and Florian both stick out among the crowd in more ways than one. The students keep their distance from the two of them, dancing with animal familiars trailing behind, everything from a small dumpy frog to a majestic white tiger. Half way through, when Tom and Harry come off the dance floor for drinks, the owner of a silver otter, a bushy haired black girl, and the pale ginger summoner of a black stallion, come to socialize. Hermione and Ginny, friends with Harry and Tom respectively, stare openly curious at them until Voldemort has to fight back the urge to pull out his flaming swords and show just why he is the demigod of war.

Eventually they leave, back to the dance floor, and Florian takes his hand and guides him away from the others to the forest. No words are spoken. No hesitancy is given. He trusts the demigod of life and death to have his best interests at heart. He is brought to a ritual circle.

Florian grins. "This ritual will allow us to enjoy the festival without impregnating every girl. I can't help those stupid enough not to use protection, but I can reduce the damage."

Voldemory shrugs. "I suppose I can accept a little less chaos."

When he steps into the circle it glows. He smiles. "I want to do a bonding contract with you." He confesses. "I will leave this world when Harry no longer needs me, I imagine you'll leave Tom when he is ready as well, and I wish to be yours even after you leace this universe."

Florian blinks. "Could you be happy tending the garden?" He asks softly. "To live in the everlasting labyrinth of the afterlife, cursed to a life of death and sorrow, cursed to watch every world as it dies until no more life can grow on any universe?"

Voldemort nods. "I believe I was yours even back in our original worlds. I've waited for you. Maybe I should move slower, we've only been officially dating three weeks, but I'd like to be yours forever. I'd like to join you in the garden. I'd like you to join me in the void. I am yours, Florian. Forever if you'll have me."

The gardener nods then cuts his palms. Voldemort follows the suite. They slowly press their palms together. A bright light flashes, memories of a million lifetimes pass through in an instant.

The light fades leaving only spotted darkess in it's wake as the glow dissipates. Everything is frozen. They stare at each other from across the circle, emotions mingling, twisted around each other with soul and magic. The seperation is unbearable.

Neither one is conscious of the movement, the thought of it or the action, but suddenly they are touching. A blur of skin touching skin, clothing discarded, breathing heavilly into each others mouths drawing blood with his blunt nails, gasping and keening as they press together as close as they can without crawling into each other's bodies and making a home beneath their skin. There is no thought to the outside world.

Not even when their mortals find them and flee only seconds later, aving seen the light and decided to investigate. They are unseen by the demigods even as they find their own empty spot in the dangerous forest.

Even so, eventually their immortal bodies have no more energy left, conscious decision must return, and they lay panting, exhausted, and snuggling in the soft ferns. There is no knowing when the ritual of soul binding was finished, no knowing how long they'd been wrapped around one another, but the light of the forest is gone, leaving only shadows and darkness.

\--

Tom frowns as he stares across the room to where his bonded is hanging upside down from the ceiling, sleeping. Ever since two weeks ago, the night if the spring festival, his summoning marks have been shifting from silver to blue and vack. His eyes too have changed in color, the purple bands going crimson obly to return. Harry too is dealing with the shifting, and Tom fears it has something to do with the strange rituslistic coupling they'd caught their bonded demigods having during the Ostera Festival.

The demigods have a bond too close to soul mates for comfort. The ease of their relationship is confusing, and reminds Tom of the ancient stories of Persephone and Hades, though in this case they are a garden demigod and a war and chaos demigod, not a spring goddess and the god of the underworld. Somehow his sunny gardener of a demigod bonded enamoured his boyfriend's mischievous gloomy war demigod bonded. Somehow, the most powerful demigod in existence, so powerful he bows to no gods, respects and admires the gardener enough to view him as an equal.

Certainly, when he first bonded with Florian, Tom used to hear the hardly hidden whispers. They mocked him for bonding with a weak demigod, nothing compared to the great dark lord of the eternal void, the serpentine warrior demigod. Harry did everything in his power to comfort him, but there was only so much he could do.

However, everything changed once people took note of the other deity who followed his around like a puppy dog. It wasnt hard to notice the terrifying bestial lord of the abyss being friendly. By the third week be had the respect he'd expected when he first bonded with Florian, before Harry derailed his plans in his normal annoyingly endearing mannor.

It took him until Yule to warm up on his own, and since then his magic has been limitless. His potential has been endless. The gardener is exceedingly powerful for someone who watches over a garden in the afterlife and sprouts flowers on the ground where he steps. The gardener mumbles in his sleep and Tom sighs. His demigod may not be as powerful as Voldemort, but obviously the other must respects him a lot to sleep with him. It makes him wonder.

Harry comes into the room and Tom stands. He can worry over his contract and bond later, right now he has class. He'll call if he needs the demigod anyways.

\--

"How long has your bond been flickering?"

The question comes out of nowhere in the early hours of May third, startling Tom so bad he knocks over his mirror. Tom turns to Voldemort with an annoyed glance after he catches his breath and fixes the mirror.

"Since the festival." He sighs.

Voldemort gives him an incredulous look. "It's been over a month and niether of you have brought it up." He points out.

Harry shrugs sheepishly. "We've been strong enough." He mumbles, "Didn't want to disturb you, and you never said anything either so..."

Florian blinks. "We thought it was a side affect of our bonding."

It is said so casually as if it isn't the worst taboo in the entire universe for two already bonded to form a contract with another. Harry's mouth opens and closes like a fish and Tom imagines he must not be any better.

"I take it that's not allowed?" Voldemort inquires, enjoying the discordant feelings like the bastard he is.

Tom forces himself to calm. "It's forbidden. If it is ever discovered we will be sent to Azkaban for life. Not to mention that it explains why we are flickering. Our bond is incomplete. It won't be easy to hide once it is fully formed. We are going to jail."

Harry groans. "How the hell can I face my mom?" He asks and Tom tries not to shake him.

"There are worse things than Lily's disapproval, Harry!" He snaps.

Before his boyfriend can retort, Florian speaks up. "So we all finish bonding. Voldemort and Tom, Harry and I, and then Tom and Harry. Simple."

Tom doesn't argue. It won't fix anything, but it will stop the fluctuations, which might buy them time. With a look to Harry he pulls the moonstone blade from his belt.

The scent of blood and dark magic fills the air.

\--

June twenty fourth starts as a peaceful day, but then the armies come. With all the excitement of the summoning and all that came after it, it was hard to remember that they were at war with Grindelwald. It's a perfect day for the war to come to Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Summoning, with the four masters of the Covens and their bonded having arrived for finals in less than a week.

The world explodes in pain. Blood spills over the school grounds. Tom frantically searches for Harry, for Florian, for Voldemort, but to no avail. Soon enough all of the students, teachers, and familiars have been gathered in the great hall. Voldemort is caged in a ritual circle, but still Harry is no where to be seen.

Then Grindelwald comes with his horrifying beast of a familiar. The world ender, the god of death. It appears as an ever shifting ball of energy, black shadows, and darkness. The dark lord stands tall and militant, old and haggard. At his side Harry stands bleeding in chains.

"This one tried to fight." The dark lord sneers. "His death will serve as a reminder to you all."

As the god of death moves forward, Tom screams, "Nooo!"

Silence reigns and Tom realises that he is standing, wand outstretched, and everyone is staring. The dark lord laughs. "What's this?" He glares. "I recognize you. You're Merope's boy, heir of the Slytherin Coven. Do you think you can defeat me? You've got a bond with a pathetic florist."

Tom stands his ground. "I will defeat you." He hisses. "You will release Harry. Now!"

The dark lord laughs. "No."

"Please don't do this Gellert." Dumbledore pleads.

"Too late, old friend." The dark lord sneers. He turns to his familiar. "Kill them all."

Tom squeezes his eyes shut, but then a chuckle catches his attention. He opens his eyes to watch as Florian steps forward. "So you're the reason for the unbalancing." The words make no sense, but niether does the way that the god of death cowers, hissing and fearful.

"Who are you?" Grindelwald growls.

"I'm his familiar." Florian grins like a shark. "They call me the Gardener."

"Kill the demigod." He demands, but the shadowy creature only cowers more.

Then the god howls and it speaks in whispering fear. _Gardener_ , it hisses, _Destroyer of Worlds, Demigod of life and death, Master of the void._

"Correct." His bonded demigod laughs.

Harry has somehow found him and Tom barely notices the painful grip on his hand in his shock. Demigod of life and death. Suddenly he can't breathe. What had he called him all those months earlier? Low rent garden demigod? How many times had he mocked the demigod in that first month? He's going to die.

Grindelwald hisses in anger. "I saw his bonding, Gardener. He didn't summon you."

"No." Florian smiles. "I chose him because the gods of this world cowered vefore him in the heart of the universe. They feared he would bring about the end of the universe if they bonded with him."

What? Can it be true? Was he almost left unbonded because the gods themselves feared his power?

"Harry was chosen too." He says. "Two so powerful theynever needed us in the first place. They are my family, so what do you expect I shall I do to you?"

 _Mercy_! The shadow hisses. _Mercy! We beg you, Mercy, Great Destroyer!_

"Quiet!" Grindelwald seethes. "Just kill him! You are a god!"

Florian laughs. "A celestial devourer is no god." He smiles. "Now, die."

At this word, the dark lord is risen above the earth and they watch as he screams out a long no, and turns to dust in the wind. The creature cowers and the demigod kneels before it.

"Sleep little one." He soothes. "You were just a casualty of his cause. Rest now in my garden. You will never be used again."

The shadows twist and shift until they suddenly form into a young man, who cries and thanks him even as he turns to dust too. There is dead silence, then Florian stands and brushes off his black robes.

He turns to Tom. "As I am your familiar, and I defeated him, that makes you the next Dark Lord by conquest." He grins, "Congratulations!"

\--

Silence reigns in the great hall as Voldemort walks to him, a grin on his face like he is enjoying the chaos of the revelation. No doubt he is. Harry nudges Tom and he swallows thickly, staring wide eyed at the demigod of war and the demigod of death as they check each other over.

"So," Tom clears his throat, "Demigod of life and death, huh?"

The two immortals laugh. "You never asked me what I was demigod of." Florian smiles. "And I liked being just the Gardener, just Florian."

Harry tilts his head, concidering his own demigod. "You knew, didn't you?'

Voldemort grins. "Of course." He grins, "But the chaos of this is alnost as good as the other revelations."

In the air he draws out letters in an oddly familiar writing. _I am Lord Voldemort._ They shift before the gathered crowd, rearranging until they spell a name that makes many voices rise up in a whispering roar. _Tom Marvolo Riddle._

Tom looks faint beside him. "How?"

"I was born in a universe similar to this one many millennia ago." He informs. "Same as Florian was. I was you, but different, and then my universe died. To become a demigod one only needs to be a human who survives the death of their universe."

Harry feels faint. Tom snorts. "Suddenly the ease of Harry charming you makes so much sense. I doubt there's a universe out their where I don't love him, not even those where I hate him."

Florian laughs. "Of course, now that the cat is out of the bag I have to return home to the Garden." Harry and Tom both stare in horrified shock. "Don't be sad. You are destined for greatness, the both of you. Had it not been for Grindelwald messing with the fabric of reality by bonding with a celestial devourer we never would gave met."

Tom makes a noise that is practically a sob. "That doesn't make me feel better."

"You will be the greatest dark lord this world has ever seen, and when you die you'll be given a place in my everlasting garden." A door opens in thin air, showing a view of the most vibrant garden Harry has ever seen. Voldemort steps through with a wave, vanishing into the garden with not even a goodbye. Florian steps in, then turns. "Oh and, Harry?"

"Yes?" He asks.

"Don't forget you have a great destiny too, Master of Death." The shadows shift revealing his own face and the demigod winks before vanishing into the garden as the door disappears.

Tom takes his hand and they look to each other, ready to face the others, ready to face the world

Together.

\--

"So," Voldemort laughs when he joins him in the garden, "Do I call you Harry now?"

"Only if you wish to be called Tom." The gardener retorts

He wrinkles his nose. "Florian it is."

Laughing the demigod of life and death pulls the demigod of war and chaos into a passionate kiss. He never again feels lonely in the garden.


End file.
